


Fate Is A Gift

by skyestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Airports, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Boarding School Student!Cas, Bonding, Boys with feelings, Deep Conversations, Drabble, Fluff, High School Drop Out!Dean, M/M, hunter!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 16:06:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1393858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyestiel/pseuds/skyestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boarding school student and disheartened son, Castiel, finds himself stranded in an airport terminal on Christmas Eve. While waiting, Fate decides to gift him with an eager and compassionate listener, Dean, who has his own issues. The two bond and things don’t go exactly as Castiel had planned…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fate Is A Gift

_Of all times_ , Castiel thought with a heavy sigh.

As a student at one of the most prestigious boarding schools on the East Coast, he didn’t see his family often. They tried to keep in touch, of course, but their dedication to the church left with them very little time to devote to their son a few hundred miles away. He might get a call once a week- if that- and that seemed to suffice. But Christmas time? That was the exception.

Around the holidays, his family expected him to come home and spend his two weeks off with them. It usually involved a great deal of snotty parties, occasions that required Cas to dress up and put on a fake smile as he greeted people he only knew because of his parents. Half of them could care less about the Milton’s son, the one who had been shipped off to boarding school like every other Milton child. He was just another Milton kid in everyone’s eyes. Hell, most of them called him by his brother, Gabriel’s name even though they looked _nothing_ alike.

In addition to the stifling and strictly religious rituals his family adhered to, the way they acted when they were all stuck in the same house made matters worse. To be perfectly honest, just about every member of his messed up family hated each other for one reason or another. All of Castiel’s siblings _loathed_ their father, something he still couldn’t bring himself to do. Michael and Lucifer were sworn enemies, and Gabriel was notorious for finding a way to piss at least one of them off within the first fifteen minutes that everyone arrived at the Milton mansion (or Milton Castle, as many people had dubbed it).

So, of course, Castiel dreaded going home. The chance to escape from his predominantly snooty classmates certainly held an appeal, but the fighting and brown-nosing he had to suffer through back in Illinois was nearly- if not more, sometimes- as unbearable.

And yet they still expected him to fly in. Cas could only imagine how his mother, the most sensible relative he had left, felt right now. She was probably pacing the length of their huge kitchen, filling the room with the comforting and familiar click of her heels striking the marble tiles. Castiel smirked and shook his head. He could never quite understand why she’d chosen to marry his father instead of someone a little more compassionate. But, they were both extremely religious, which was hard to find in today’s world.

Instead of being there, though, he was here, sitting in an airport terminal with about forty other frustrated fliers. The number of people was subject to change considering the fact that the flight may not be able to take off until the next morning. Castiel had to admit that he was surprised by the amount of people who had already left, cursing under their breath about “fucking airlines” and “this godforsaken weather, I swear” as they shuffled out of the room and back to their cars.

Castiel had considered stretching out on the chairs, lying down on the somewhat comfortable blue cushions, and taking a much-needed nap. He hadn’t slept a lot recently since his roommate, Bart, had turned 18. For some reason, every boy in his hallway had mistaken the number for 21 and had been showing up to he and Bart’s room with any alcohol they could find at least three days a week. Cas wasn’t a prude- the last thing he wanted to do is be anything like the snobs back in Illinois he despised- but the loud, drunken slurring and horridly off-key karaoke made it difficult to sleep. He would gladly settle for a decent nap while he waited.

But something had caught his eye. A boy who appeared to be around his age, dressed in a red plaid shirt, jeans, and boots, was staring at Castiel from the other side of the room. His wide, forest green eyes focused on Cas as if he were the only other person in the room. A crooked smirk settled on his lips, a gesture that seemed fairly ordinary, like it belonged on the boy’s face. He was leaning his head against the wall behind him, using a worn-looking leather jacket as a pillow. The stare was somewhat predatory and yet still appeared gentle and kind, a hint of warmth that made Castiel shift nervously in his seat.

If he were as outgoing as any one of his siblings, he would’ve already walked over and asked the guy if he wanted to take a picture so it would last longer. Oh yes, that certainly sounded like something Gabriel or Lucifer or, hell, Anna would say if they were in the same situation. Cas wasn’t them, though, and the idea of addressing the other boy made him far more nervous than it probably should.

Instead, he glanced down at his hands, clasped tightly in his lap. He couldn’t think of anywhere else to look. Of course, even looking down, he could still feel the boy’s stare burning holes in the top of his head.

This was crazy. If he sat like this for much longer, he would go insane. After living in a household for several years with people who couldn’t stand to even be in the same room as one another, Cas had learned to hate tension. The tension wasn’t exactly the same, but it made him incredibly comfortable nevertheless.

“It sucks, huh?”

Castiel jumped, limbs flailing. _Oh God._ Hesitantly, he raised his head and peered at the same cocky smirk he had glimpsed earlier. The boy appeared to be a few inches taller than Cas with a stockier build, graced with the broad shoulders and chest that he had always secretly wanted. His waist, however, seemed trim and most of his height appeared to come from his legs.

“Uh- I’m sorry?” Cas blurted, clearing his throat nervously. He shouldn’t be nervous- he really shouldn’t. Some random guy in an airport terminal should not make him feel this anxious.

As if completely oblivious to Castiel’s discomfort, the boy threw himself down into the seat beside him. He crossed his legs and leaned back, eyes fluttering shut, a small smile on his lips. Cas scoffed, turning away to hide his quickly reddening cheeks. It was clear that the boy wasn’t used to being ignored. He was certainly making himself comfortable- as if he intended to stay right there with Castiel.

“This weather. It’s a real bitch,” the boy sighed and reluctantly straightened back up again, turning to face his uncomfortable new companion. “Of course, the only reason I want to get home is to see my brother. I haven’t seen the damn kid for two weeks, but it feels like it’s been months. You know?”

 _No, I actually don’t know_ , Castiel thought bitterly. He didn’t voice his thoughts, though, in hopes that his silence would scare the other boy away.

“Okay, well, whatever,” he chuckled, “you don’t have to talk to me. I’ll just sit here and do all the talking if I have to. Sitting here all night without talking someone’s ear off will drive me nuts so…”

Castiel bit his lip in frustration. He completely understood where the other boy was coming from. He would love to have someone to unload all of his troubles onto. He would give anything to find a trustworthy person that would sit and quietly listen to all of his petty issues. No one ever wanted to at school, and Cas didn’t feel as if he could confide in any of them anyway.

“I’m Dean, by the way,” the boy- Dean- carried on, unfazed by Castiel’s stubborn and somewhat childish behavior. His smile never faded despite Cas’s silence- it actually seemed to grow wider. From the set of his shoulders and the light, carefree tone of his voice, he clearly enjoyed a challenge and would refuse to back down from an obstinate boarding school student.

The name, for some strange reason, fit the boy perfectly. Castiel had never met a “Dean” before and yet somehow he couldn’t think of another suitable name for his persistent new acquaintance.

“Oh c’mon,” Dean chuckled, teasingly nudging Cas with his elbow, “you can at least tell me your name! Admit it: sitting here all night with no one to talk to will _suck ass_.” He leaned closer as he said the last couple words, causing Castiel to jump, his legs kicking out. Dean, being the gentleman he was, began to laugh even harder.

The son of a bitch had a point. Fate had finally thrown him a bone, providing him with someone that would listen to all of his problems, someone who he would likely never encounter again, someone that wouldn’t spill any of his secrets because he had no one to tell. And so what if Fate had chosen Dean as that someone?

Reluctantly, Castiel turned in his seat. As he’d expected, Dean was grinning like the Cheshire cat, a wicked glint in his forest green eyes. The smell of leather and aftershave lingered on his skin, a detail that Cas couldn’t help but notice as he first made eye contact with the other boy and scooted a couple inches closer to him. Surprisingly, at this distance, Dean’s demeanor didn’t appear predatory or ominous like he’d originally thought.

“Ah, there we go,” Dean trilled, holding his hand out for Castiel to shake, “put her there!”

Castiel stared down at the other boy’s hand as if he didn’t quite know what it was, still unsure about the whole situation. Dean had to have another motivation for initiating Cas in conversation, and it definitely wasn’t alleviating any of his concern.

Hesitantly, Cas reached out and grasped Dean’s hand, pleasantly surprised to find that the other boy had a firm handshake. His father had always told him that you could tell a lot about another person from the way they shook hands.

“Yeah, I don’t bite,” Dean insisted jokingly.

“One can never be sure,” Castiel replied, voice cracking. He silently kicked himself. He needed to sound confident, not like a jittery middle school boy.

“Hm, I guess,” Dean agreed with a shrug. He leaned back, casually resting his left arm along the back of Castiel’s chair. Cas tried not to flinch as said arm slid into place and briefly brushed against his shoulders. “Can you at least trust me with your name? I gave you mine after all.”

Cas rolled his eyes, unable to hold back a smile for any longer. “Does it really matter? We can still talk without having to know each other’s names.”

“It’s polite. I show you mine, you show me yours.”

Castiel’s sighed and rolled his eyes once again. He figured it wouldn’t be the last time he’d be doing so. “Fine, fine,” he grumbled, “I’m Castiel. Or-“

“Yeah, I’m gonna call you Cas,” Dean interjected, catching Castiel off-guard yet again by finishing his train of thought, “you look more like a Cas to me.”

“Oh?”

“Yep. I’ve never met a ‘Cas’ before, but you just… I don’t know,” Dean admitted. It was exactly the same thing Castiel had thought about Dean’s name earlier… okay, this was getting weirder and weirder by the second.

“Well, I’ve never met a ‘Dean’ before either so I guess we’re even,” Castiel agreed with a little nod.

“I’m probably the best ‘Dean’ out there. Consider yourself lucky,” Dean replied cheekily, smirking mischievously. He nudged Castiel’s knee playfully with his own and chuckled softly.

“Okay, Mr. Perfect,” Cas countered, crossing his arms defiantly, “what is _so important_ that you had to come over here and interrupt my moment of peace, huh? You obviously have something you want to get off your chest.”

Dean snorted, a gesture that would’ve been embarrassing or unpleasant if it were anyone else. “You caught me,” he admitted, “I do have a lot on my mind. But, to be honest? I kind of wanted to hear what’s bothering you first.”

_What?_

“Me?” Castiel squeaked. How could Dean possibly care about what _he_ had to say? He wasn’t anything special, and his troubles were probably less important than the other boy’s. Well, that and the fact that they had just met a few minutes ago.

“Yes, you,” Dean chuckled, sending a shiver down Cas’s spine. He shifted a little closer and moved his arm from the back of Castiel’s seat so that it could comfortably rest on his shoulders. He squeezed gently with the intent to make the other boy feel better. Of course, he had no idea that the contact only worsened his new friend’s anxiety.

“I want to know why you look so damn jumpy. It’s like you _need_ to get home or someone will kick your ass,” Dean explained, surprising Castiel with his perceptiveness. “So, spill. And don’t give me that ‘it’s a long story’ bullshit because we definitely have enough time.”

Cas wasn’t sure how to react. On one hand, Dean seemed genuinely concerned about his problems. But, on the other hand, he was a stranger and Castiel knew better than to confide in people he’d just met. As a stranger, though, Dean would have completely unbiased opinions on the matter and, if he were truly lucky, would sit back and simply listen to everything without any unnecessary or crude commentary. It was a nice change from the brief attention he was reluctantly given when he attempted to talk to one of his classmates.

“I… fine,” Castiel sighed, “as long as you promise not to be an ass about anything.”

“I won’t,” Dean promised, fixing Cas with an intense and penetrating stare, silently begging for trust. There was something about that look. It had been a while since Castiel had seen someone gaze at him the way Dean now was. He wasn’t used to anyone actually caring about what he had to say. No one gave a damn about his opinions or his problems. And, admittedly, it was nice knowing that there was someone out there who took an interest in him for once.

Castiel closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing. He didn’t even know where to begin. The biggest thing on his mind at that moment had to be his family and how they would react when he told them he didn’t want to apply to Harvard like they’d planned. The scenario continuously played out in his imagination throughout the course of the day, repeating itself continuously.

“Well, let’s just say that my family is… different.”

* * *

 

Roughly an hour later, after Castiel had discussed everything that had been bothering him for the past year, the two sat in comfortable silence. As he had hoped, Dean had sat and listened attentively to every little detail, proving that he was paying attention by nodding his head every now and then and mumbling soft noises of approval throughout the course of Castiel’s explanation.

Cas felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. The last time he had ever felt this good was before he had left for boarding school. Back when he was in grade school, his parents were more willing to listen to his troubles considering that they were the simple struggles of an eight or nine year old boy. Once puberty struck, they wanted nothing to do with him when it came to personal issues. They claimed that they loved him, of course, but they refused to take the time to just sit and _listen_.

Poor Dean had been forced to listen to all of it. He was considerably patient and polite for someone his age.

“Wow,” Dean mumbled softly, shaking his head, “that’s… something else. My problems are, um, pretty different, I guess.”

Castiel had figured as much. He still had yet to meet someone who understood what it was like to be shoved to the side by their parents. He knew that he wasn’t the only one, but his kind certainly seemed to be few and far between.

“Yeah,” he sighed, leaning back to rest his neck against Dean’s arm. Over the course of their conversation, Castiel’s anxiety and doubts about the other boy had faded away. He felt surprisingly comfortable in Dean’s presence now.

“I mean, I do understand the whole school thing, though,” Dean countered, “I keep dropping out of high school and my dad is not really having it.”

Cas’s eyes widened. “What? As in…”

“As in I don’t fucking need a high school education for what I want to do in the future,” the other boy growled, his lips twisting into a frustrated scowl as he spoke, “I don’t need to know how to do algebra if all I want to do is… well, I just won’t need any of that shit in the future.”

Well, this was new. There were students at Castiel’s school who didn’t exactly enjoy school and didn’t put any stock into their education, going through the motions because they were obligated to do so, but they never actually _dropped out_. Drop outs had a certain reputation on campus. When students spoke about them, it was in hurried and hushed whispers, in heated and disappointed discussions. They certainly were not admired for their rebelliousness.

And yet Dean seemed to feel very strongly about his decision. His smile and bright, joyful gaze were nowhere to be seen, hidden behind the furious façade of a boy who had clearly given up on society. Again, Castiel was not a prude by any means, but dropping out of high school seemed rather… drastic to him.

“I… I don’t understand,” Castiel admitted, carefully choosing his next words, “what would you like to do as a career? I don’t mean to be rude or anything. I just… I find it hard to believe that there is a profession that doesn’t require a high school education.”

Dean froze. His arm stiffened and his entire demeanor changed. It only took a few simple words and Dean had transformed from the warm and personable teenage boy who eagerly agreed to listen to others’ problems to a cold and saddened hollow shell who shied away from the idea of social interactions. The change happened so quickly that Castiel couldn’t possibly pinpoint the moment it happened. One second, passion filled his gaze and, the next, his eyes became the lifeless eyes of a corpse.

“I’m… Dean, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-“

“No, that’s a good question,” Dean whispered, voice laced with pain and frustration. Castiel cringed, unaccustomed to the disheartened tone. “And I can’t tell you exactly what I want to be. I wish I could, but you’re better off not knowing.”

Castiel didn’t think so. His curiosity was killing him, begging him to ask until he got a straight answer. _But there are things you wouldn’t tell him. He never forced you to reveal what you didn’t want to_ , his conscious reminded him gently.

“Oh. Um, okay,” Castiel replied dumbly, unable to come up with a better response.

And then the silence returned. This time, however, it felt far less comfortable, weighing down on both boys’ shoulders.

Dean peered off into the distance, staring at God-knew-what, while Castiel stared down at his fidgeting hands. There was something he needed to do and yet he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. The other boy was in dire need of something Castiel wasn’t quite sure he could give.

But there was one thing he could do, no matter how simple and mundane it may seem.

Without a second thought, Castiel turned and threw his arms around Dean, pulling him in against his chest, tucking the other boy’s head underneath his chin. Dean gasped, surprised by the gesture of kindness, and remained unyielding at first. Cas squeezed a little tighter and began trailing his right hand slowly up and down the other boy’s back, lingering on the space between his shoulder blades with shaky fingers.

Castiel was not a big fan of hugs. The contact always made him uncomfortable, as if he were being crushed and smothered. But this hug was unlike any he’d ever experienced before. He generally found himself on the receiving end and yet he had been the one to make the first move in this instance, trapping Dean in the warm circle of his embrace.

The other boy slowly melted into his touch, breathing steadily against the small patch of exposed skin near Castiel’s collarbone. He brought his arms up and snaked them carefully around Cas’s waist, gripping the soft fabric of the boy’s sweater as if he were afraid he may slip away at any moment. For Castiel, the gesture was one of kindness and sympathy, but, for Dean, it appeared to be one of desperation and necessity.

“Hey, it’ll all work out,” Castiel assured Dean, tilting his head down, burying his nose in the other boy’s hair. He breathed in the same clean scent he had noticed earlier, closing his eyes, allowing the scent to wash over and calm him.

“I sure as hell hope so, Cas,” Dean murmured against Castiel’s skin, nuzzling into the other boy’s chest, and pulled himself even closer.

Castiel sighed and reopened his eyes. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, “yeah, me too.”

* * *

 

The sky seemed especially blue today, absolutely striking against the white wisps of clouds. In the distance, the radiant light of the sun tinted the clouds with its splendor, brightening everything in its wake.

Castiel had always been captivated by the sky. The vastness of it all held so much promise, tempting him with its possibilities of the unknown, the potential for exploration and adventure. As someone with little to no affinity for adventure, Cas speculated about space from the safety of his own home, finding his own escape between the pages of a novel.

But that wasn’t what was on his mind at the moment. No, not at all.

Every few seconds, he couldn’t help but reach into his jacket pocket and retrieve the small slip of paper he’d been given at the airport terminal. The ink had smeared somewhat but the message and phone number were still completely legible.

 _If you ever need someone to talk to about those pricks you call family, remember that I’m here. I won’t judge. But you already knew that, didn’t you?_  

_Give em hell._

_-Dean_

Castiel smiled and folded the slip of paper, tucking it back into his pocket where he knew it would be safe. Fate had really thrown him one hell of a bone.


End file.
